


Ascension

by Vanemis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Homeless Castiel, Human Castiel, Human!Lucifer, M/M, Multi, Season/Series 09, Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanemis/pseuds/Vanemis
Summary: Most of the seals on Lucifer's Cage break when Metatron locks Heaven, but the remaining cause the Morningstar's Grace to vanish. Alone and mortal, he has to deal with being human.





	1. Begin

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that came to me a while back, and whilst most of the plot is figured out, I still have to write it! No idea when I can upload chapters, since there's plenty of other stuff I need to get on with.  
> Hopefully you guys will like this - Nathaniel :)

When the Angels were cast out of Heaven, something in the Cage broke. It might’ve be the seals or some of the binding spells but none of that mattered.  
What mattered was that they were free.

Lucifer and Michael could leave after being trapped for so long by the Winchesters. The Devil’s used to the crushing silence and the loneliness but Michael isn’t. He snapped quickly and now all he can do is talk to himself or huddle in the corner and it drives his brother insane. So when the gates swung wide open, Lucifer was the first to get out.

He doesn’t even question it, doesn’t realise the mistake he’s made until he can feel fresh air again.

There’s a failsafe built into the foundations of the Cage, and Lucifer, for a brief but stupid moment, forgets that. It took but a second to wipe away his Grace completely. It’s gone, just like that, but the indescribable pain of it left Lucifer crying out on the ground.   
For his entire life, he’d been able to hear his kin. Even in the Cage, his Father knew that a link should still be kept. Lucifer wasn’t privy to most of them, especially anything to do with Seraphs or Archangels, but he could hear the basic chatter. It kept him sane for millennia and now it was just gone.  
Only silence remained in his head. He tried to focus on something, anyone that might still be there, but then something burning flew across the sky and he understood what had happened, why the Cage was wide open.

Heaven was locking all the Angels out.

Watching his brothers and sisters plummet to Earth in flames shattered his heart. His pain had worn off now but at least he hadn’t gone through _that_. He couldn’t begin to imagine what they must be going through.

Lucifer glanced down at himself, hoping to see his wings but they had gone too, along with his Grace. He was mortal now. The body he’d possessed before was still there though. Nick was long gone but Lucifer had kept the vessel up until Sam said yes.

A cold breeze brought him back to awareness and Lucifer realised that he was alone. Michael had not followed him. If he wanted to stay there, that was fine with him. Now that Lucifer was finally free, again, he’d find another way to raise hell.

Lucifer tried to stand up, but his vessel was considerably weakened from before, and it took a few minutes to regain his balance and look around for some lights or a car. There was a road nearby, and the Devil recognised he was in the cemetery where he’d lost a fight to a fucking human.

It felt like hours before he reached the asphalt. His body refused to co-operate and the cold caused painful shivers to run across his body. The clothes Nick wore were thin and worn, so Lucifer numbly rolled the sleeves of the denim shirt down, hoping to shield himself just a little from the biting wind. It barely helped.

Just as he stumbled out onto the road, a car drove by, completely ignoring Lucifer and carried on straight until disappeared around a corner. Maybe there was a town nearby. Yes, he remembered flying close by and how Sam had tensed when he realised his hometown was just a few miles away. Lawrence, wasn’t it?  
With a destination in mind, Lucifer started to walk in the same direction the car had taken. The trees grew sparser until they were replaced with houses here and there, dotting the countryside.

At first, Lucifer wanted to knock on one of the door, demand warmer clothes and some place to just sit and think, but the humans would never let him in, they would tell him to fuck off ‘else they’d call the police or tell him to go find someone else to bother. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to kill them by hand, and from the lack of Grace, no smiting.

He kept walking, occasionally glancing at the brightly lit homes, watching with little interest the shadows of people bustling about and how they took trash bags out, or let their dogs out before rushing back into the warmth. It was all so meaningless to him.   
He could never understand how humans worked. How they were determined to stay alive when their lives were so dull and pointless. Why bother to live at all? There was no higher motive to life for them, just the basic pre-written code engraved in their minds to just keep _being_ , like bugs. Sure, they had advanced so much more than he’d ever expected of this lowly species, but for what purpose? To keep their children and children’s children alive? It was just a circle, a mess. Humans were weak and should’ve died out long ago, yet here Lucifer was, walking amongst them as a mortal, just as weak. The irony was not lost on him.  
  
A girl jogged by, dressed in obscenely tight clothes with accents of neon. Her music was loud enough to hear across the street. Her pathetically small dog tried to keep up with her exuberant exercise, and when it noticed Lucifer glancing at it, the creature let out a startlingly loud yelp and ran faster out in front of the girl. Lucifer chuckled drily. At least the damn thing could still sense the whole angelicness or maybe the little shit didn’t like strangers. Either way, Lucifer decided to ignore the yapping mutt and kept walking, still glancing around the unfamiliar surroundings.

Just as his resolve was beginning to diminish, a car pulled out of a darkened driveway. The house’s lights were all off, and it seemed as though the entire family had gone out.   
The angel looked around, but nobody was outside. Someone could still see him from their windows though, so Lucifer walked past the house until he reached a small pathway lined with high wooden fences. The path took him around the back of the house’s garden. Still no lights or curious humans.

The actual fence wasn’t too tall, so Lucifer managed to climb over it with ease despite his exhausted body.

The garden was simple. A few bushes lined the property, barely flowering in the winter’s chill, a small swing set for an infant in the right corner and a red brick built-in barbecue on the patio.

The wide doors gave access to the kitchen, and Lucifer mockingly thanked his Father when the handle turned and the door swung open. The house was silent, minus the ticking of a nearby clock on the wall.

Lucifer first noticed the warmth. His hand brushed against the radiator and he pulled it with a hiss when it burned his skin. He swore under his breath and glanced around his surroundings.

On the counter was a full set of knives, that were visibly sharp when Lucifer slid one out of the wooden block. The blade felt heavy in his hand, unfamiliar and uncomfortable, unlike the Angel blade he was used to carrying. It wasn’t there, missing just like his Grace.  
The knife would do.

The house might’ve been silent and seem empty but, nonetheless, Lucifer carefully manoeuvred around, careful of his steps in case someone was indeed here. Downstairs was empty and useless, so the angel went to the stairwell.  
A few steps creaked under his weight, and he immediately crowded himself into a dark corner, straining to hear. He could keep cursing his situation for centuries. Had he his Grace, he’d sense the humans, hell, he wouldn’t even fucking be here! Grovelling around like some pathetic human, carving knife held tightly in his hand that couldn’t quite stop shaking even with the raised temperature.

No sound reached him.

He kept moving, staying in the shadows as best he could because one could never be too careful.

The hallway had four doors. Lucifer checked from left to right. Bathroom, spare room, used room. The last room was that of a child’s, with bright blue walls and stickers crudely stuck to the paint in a mess that only a child could appreciate.

No one was home. Good.

Just as he closed the door to the bedroom, a loud noise echoed. He glanced around, confused, before realising that he was hungry. He’d never needed to eat when he’ used vessels, but he’d seen Sam do it, in his memories. The random stuff had been of no use to Lucifer, but he’d explored the hunter’s mind thoroughly once he could. Michael would have ignored such little things, preferring to just wear and fight.  
Not Lucifer though. Sam was his, and he wanted to know everything about the human, everything he’d missed or his demons hadn’t told him because they’d thought it irrelevant.   
Even now, after everything had passed, Sam was still his. He would always belong to Lucifer. And now those memories came in handy, because he needed to know certain things about being mortal that he’d never cared for before. Like eating.

He jogged down the stairs, and went straight to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the light since the moon was lighting his way perfectly fine. Plus it might alarm the neighbours.

He opened the fridge, and was relieved to find stuff he could eat straight away. Despite Sam’s helpfulness, Lucifer wasn’t ready to use any of the appliances around him lest he do something wrong and burn the house down.

Carelessly, he grabbed a few leftovers and dumped them on the granite island, even going as far as taking a can of beer. He’d seen Sam and his brother drink the stuff so often, how bad could it be?  
Sitting down on a tall stool, he ripped the lid off the first container, pulling away sharply at the strong, overwhelming scent of pasta. He leaned over the counter to grab at a fork left out to dry. He was civilised after all.

The taste wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the smell, and Lucifer ended up eating all of the pasta without realising. His fork hit the plastic so he moved on to the next container, which had some slices of cooked meat. He didn’t mind the cold food, and finished that off pretty quickly.  
His body still demanded more, and it was only once he had polished off the last of the takeaway pizza, which consisted of five slices, was he finally full.

The beer was still unopened so he decided to try that too. It wasn’t good. He took one sip and almost spat it back out. Screw what Sam thought, beer was fucking awful.

Deciding it was time to rest, Lucifer made his way back upstairs. Inside the main bedroom was a large closet, so he grabbed a rucksack from the top shelf and filled it with spare clothes that he thought would fit Nick’s tall but fit form.   
A quick check in the bathroom for any kind of useful medication or first aid kit, and he was all set.  
The drawers were filled with magazines and boring crap. No hidden guns anywhere, not even in the spare room.

The bed there was clean and unused so Lucifer set the bag down beside the wooden frame, in case he needed to grab and go. The lock on the door was set and the windows cleared of any useless clutter for a quick getaway. Not that he was planning on running else he had no other choice. He’d wait until the family got back and kill them in their sleep.

But first, rest. His body was exhausted from the Cage’s seals and all the walking afterwards. He skipped showering, too tired to bother when he could do it the next day after he got rid of the vermin.

The sheets were heavy and cool, an uncomfortable contrast to the warm temperature. It didn’t bother him long, as he fell asleep on his stomach, arms gripping the pillow in a loose hold.

 

* * *

 

  
  
The front door slammed shut, the loud echoing noise followed by a hushed voice scolding the person who’d made the sound. Two sets of feet made their way up the carpeted stairs, the old wood creaking under their combined weight.

“I’ll go put Joshua to bed.” A female said, already walking a separate way from the first person. Her steps faded away as she went right.

The first person went into the room just next door, flicking on the overhead light tiredly before stepping into the spacious room. A figure stood in the corner, tall and menacing, with a knife held ready.

Lucifer moved fast. His free hand covered the husband’s mouth immediately, muffling the surprised scream. It was brief and changed to a choking, gargling noise when the knife ran deep across the man’s exposed throat.

The woman heard nothing, switched the light back on after Lucifer had flicked it off so she’s fall into the same trap. It was so easy.

She made the same sickening wet cry before collapsing against the angel’s chest, life drained. Her body joined her husband’s in the corner. He’d burn them later.

The child was asleep when Lucifer pushed the parted door open. A night light was projecting stars onto the ceiling and a soft lullaby played with it. The kid never felt a thing, never noticed Lucifer’s tall figure brandishing the blood-soaked knife or the splatter of crimson on his hand, trailing up to his bony wrist.   
The kid’s body was slumped beside his mom.

 


	2. Remember them?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are enjoying this so far, the next chapter will include the boys!

The house was fine for him. Plenty of food in the fridge, the owners must’ve have just bought it before Lucifer slaughtered them. Personally, he preferred mercy-kill. After all, they were just droning on in life. They were never gonna to matter in the long run. Sure, friends and family would miss them, but death was inevitable, he just sped up the process.

The car had promise too.

Lucifer hadn’t dared to go outside in the daylight, and he was patiently waiting for night before examining the car and its usefulness. He had no idea how to even drive, so he didn’t even bother contemplating whether to take it with him when he left.

Time went by so much slower. As an angel, a day was just a blink of an eye, and now it felt tedious. He kept glancing at the clock, hoping it would speed up under his icy glare. Did all humans feel like this? Fuck, humans were worse off than he imagined.

Boredom was unbearable, and Lucifer had no clue how to keep himself busy. Being in the Cage for so long wasn’t that bad, at least time went by fucking quicker. He could spawn whatever he wanted for his amusement, change how everything looked and felt until he could almost believe he was back home.

No.

He had no home.

He had nothing now.

He was worthless.

Any angel could see that and sneer at his pathetic situation. They were all cast out though, each and every single one of those traitors. The angels he’d called Brother and Sister for most of his existence.  
He still remembered, clear as day, the looks of fear and disgust marring their features. How they’d whispered amongst themselves, parted or rushed to move away whenever he walked amongst them, led by his big brother to be sent away, away from all that purity. Like he was sick and there was nothing anyone could do to save him. It was God’s command after all.   
If only Michael had- No. Michael was worse than all of them, worse than Father. It was all his fault. He was to blame for all this. If only he’d grown a spine and told his Father he was wrong, if only…

Something cold and wet slid down Lucifer’s cheek and it took him a moment to realise he was crying. He hadn’t cried since the Fall.

Anger surged through him, pushing aside the anguish until it was never there, as though he hadn’t just made himself remember everything he kept hidden deep down.

He hastily wiped at his eyes, ignoring the wetness and brushing it off onto his jeans. Standing quickly from his spot on the leather couch, Lucifer paced around the living room which was easily five metres wide.   
The movement helped him concentrate on something else, but it wasn’t enough. What did humans do when they needed distraction? Sam’s memories provided nothing but alcohol, yet there was always pain afterwards. Lucifer was hurting enough as it was. He didn’t need to add a hangover to it.

Sam’s way of coping with anything was to either bury himself in research, or drink. In contrast, his brother’s way was to go out and drive, or just drink himself to sleep. Neither seemed like good options.

Lucifer glanced around, more desperate this time to distract himself. Maybe there was something here.  
There was a black screen attached to the wall, and some other devices beneath it, wires flooding out. Helpful as ever, Sam told him it was a television and he had plenty of experience with them, so Lucifer followed his guide and went over to it.

  
His fingers fumbled for the ON button, and the device whirred to life, before the screen lit up and some footage of a sport’s game showed up.

The people speaking were incredibly loud and energetic, and the angel immediately grabbed a remote, hoping it was the correct one. It took only a second to locate the mute button, and the room was blissfully silent again.

Searching for what to do now, Lucifer learned from the Winchester how to use the damn thing. He lowered the volume and started skipping through until he found something he found interesting.

Nothing caught his attention, until he almost skipped past a woman spread out on a bed with a man beside her. Porn. _Of_ _course_. Lucifer sighed deeply and turned the television off.

A quick glance at the clock told him he’d wasted ten minutes doing that.

 

* * *

 

He ate in silence, not bothering to try again with the television. Or the radio, or anything electronic for that matter.

Someone called the house earlier, startling him, but it stopped ringing after a while, leaving Lucifer alone. He’d been lying on the couch, eyes closed, and the noise had temporarily made him think the angels knew where he was. How could they? He was mortal. They wouldn’t bother to search for him, not yet, not whilst Heaven was locked up and shut tight.

 

He made his way upstairs, ignoring the bodies still in the master bedroom. He’d deal with them later.

 

The spare room was all his for the time being. It was sparse. A double bed, nightstand on both sides, dresser by the window and a wardrobe built into the wall. No posters or photos, just plain.   
Lucifer scoffed. He hated this. After spending so long bunking with Michael, it felt strange to be alone. He hadn’t walked the Earth for long even with Nick and Sam. Before, he had been immense, a force to truly be reckoned with.  
Now he felt so small. He knew he shouldn’t let those thoughts carry on, he ought to shut them down right there and then.

For fuck sake’s, everyone was terrified of him. Angels, Humans, Demons and everything in between feared his very name. Yes, he was in a shitty situation but he should never let it take over him.

He was better than this, stronger.

The little self encouragement helped him out.

This was all below him. Nothing more than a nuisance.

Straightening out and scoffing for what felt like the hundredth time, Lucifer decided it was time to clean up. Nick’s clothes had stayed clean whilst he’d worn them as an angel, but he couldn’t keep it up for long now.  
The bathroom was big enough for a bathtub and shower stall, but Lucifer didn’t feel like waiting for the tub to fill up.

Stripping off his clothes felt mechanical despite never doing so in this body. He left them in the corner and went to turn on the shower. His hand was held out, checking the temperature until he was pleased with it. He stepped inside, leaving the glass door open. There was no one else here, and even if there were, he wasn’t shy.  
Sam would yelp and fumble trying to find a towel if someone walked in on him like this with the shower door open.  
The water running down his skin was so good. The angel ducked his head under the spray, just enjoying the feeling of rivulets soaking his blond hair and dripping down his nose onto the white tiles.

The warmth was engulfing, almost suffocating, but Lucifer made no move towards the cold tap. It felt too good. Angels never did this, never needed to, like sleeping or eating, but it was enjoyable.   
Lucifer spent years sleeping in the Cage, hoping to wake up one day back home with his little brother Gabriel beside him. Gabriel had latched on to him when he’d been a fledgling. Of course he loved his other brothers, but he’d taken a shine to Lucifer that the older Archangel had encouraged. Teaching him to fly, to prank his professors and family…

Fresh tears threatened to spill and Lucifer’s fist connected with the tiles in the hopes to banish the thoughts of his baby brother.

He hadn’t meant to hurt him.

Why did he have to be so stupid and reckless?! He killed his baby brother. He killed Gabriel! Why? So he wouldn’t have to admit he was wrong, so that he was closer to reaching Sam, so he could prove he knew better when he had never made such a worse mistake. It wasn’t even a mistake. A mistake meant it was an accident.

Lucifer chose to raise his Blade and he chose to stab Gabriel. The first hit had hurt, just enough to damage his small vessel, and the second had been the killing blow. The blade so deep in his brother’s abdomen that his knuckles brushed the soft fabric of his shirt, for the blood to spill over his hand. He’d felt Gabriel’s Grace spark and flicker until it vanished.

  
The Fallen angel never noticed the water had run cold, or the blood running from his palms where his nail had bitten into the skin. He sat on the floor of the shower, knees drawn up to his chest and long muscular arms wrapped so tightly around him that he resembled a small, scared child.   
Maybe that’s all he was. Just a weak pathetic child throwing a tantrum. Gabriel was right. He had always been right.

 


	3. Reminisce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel deals with his mortality.

It was cold, the rain coming down lightly but it had been hours since Castiel had started walking. His clothes were drenched and clung to his body uncomfortable. His messy black hair stuck to his forehead, water dripping down his nose. Warm puffs of breath left his lips and Cas tried hard to ignore the discomfort.

After everything he’d done, this was nothing. If only he wasn’t clinging on to life so desperately. He didn’t deserve any of this, but it was all his fault, right from the beginning. If he’d only stood in line and obeyed his superiors. But then he wouldn’t have Dean, wouldn’t have a family that would die to save him.

Sometimes, when Cas has the time and the mental strength it takes to even brush on these subjects, he wonders what his life would have been like if he’d followed orders. So many humans would be dead, and the world partly destroyed, yet the angels would be safe. Alive.

“Hey pal, want a lift?” A gruff voice called out. Cas hadn’t even noticed the truck pull over.

“Yes. Thank you.”

  
“Sure. Hop in.”

Cas rounded the pickup. The exterior was more rust than anything else, and the engine made a terrible noise. Dean could fix it in a heartbeat.The cab was warm, heat blasting out of the old vents and some country music played softly in the background.

Cas sat down, tried hard not to get water everywhere, but it was useless. His clothes dripped onto the worn leather and pooled there.

“Sorry.” Cas mumbled, too tired from everything and oddly enough, sleepy. A yawn escaped him and the driver chuckled, lifting his heavy hand off the wheel and holding it out.

“I’m heading into town, so I’ll let you off at a motel or something. That alright?” Cas shook the stranger's hand, and when he let go, the driver turned in his seat to rummage behind him.

“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”

The man pulled out a frayed rag that had once probably been a towel and handed it to Cas. The angel nodded his thanks and started to pat his hair dry, pleased to finally have no rivulets running down his face making it look like he’d cried. Maybe he had, he wasn’t too sure about anything these days.

The truck pulled back onto the deserted road and the driver stayed quiet, occasionally humming to the music and Cas quickly fell asleep, slumped against the door.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t have any money. Why would he? The motel refused him straight away after he admitted this, and the owner asked him to leave.

There were a few rooms available, he knew so from the keys left on the hooks behind the desk. None of the windows could be opened from the outside and Cas had no idea how to pick a lock.

Dean had done it so many times in front of him, but never taught him. Why would he, when an angel could just fly into anything so long as it wasn’t warded?

There was a bar nearby, and a few shops here and there but that was it. Cas couldn’t buy any drinks or food, and he had nowhere to stay.

A bench close to the motel was his bed for the night. It was hard, and uncomfortable, but at least it hadn’t rained here yet. The wind was calmer too, and Cas slept a little that night.

The next morning he had a cold.

 

* * *

 

“Are you alright?” Cas’ eyes adjusted to the sudden light. He’d slept in a restroom. It stank but the angel had no other choice when the alternative was sleeping out under a thunderous storm.

“Too much to drink?” Finally, Cas’ exhausted brain caught up with the person trying to speak with him. It was a young girl, maybe in her twenties, with blonde hair. Her clothes were warm, fur-lined and Cas felt jealous.

“I…uh…No, no, I’m not drunk.”

“Riiight. ’Cause you’re in the ladies’ room, hun.”

Cas blushed and stumbled to his feet. It had been so dark last night, he must have made a mistake. Add that to the 10-mile long list…

“Sorry…”

“It’s alright. Just as long as you’re not peeping or something!” She laughed, soft and warm, and Cas shook his head, making his way towards the door.  
“Hey, umm, do you live nearby?”

“I don’t have a home anymore.” It was the truth, gut-wrenching as it was.

“Oh… well, I’m gonna drive down to Wyoming, so, I dunno, maybe you want a ride?”

“I would truly appreciate that.” It was her turn to blush, and she nervously tucked a few loose strands behind her ear.

“Okay… well, umm, I’ll meet you outside then. The…uh… the black SUV is mine. Can’t miss it.”

  
Cas felt incredibly grateful. The girl, Emily, did just as promised. She drove a little too fast, kinda like Dean, but less reckless and without the outdated rock. Not that he would ever tell the hunter his thoughts. Dean was very close to his car and music. It was endearing, really.

On the way, she spoke almost endlessly. Sometimes Cas thought she’d run out of air and pass out. Emily was kind, though. She asked about Castiel’s past, and he answered. He was alone, had no family to go back to, and had made some terrible decisions. The detail was basic, need-to-know, and Cas suspected she thought he was an ex-junkie or something like that.

  
In exchange, she spoke about herself, her two sisters that she was on the way to visiting. It wasn’t a friendly visit. Her father had passed away and he’d meant everything to Emily and her sisters.

Cas felt as though he could identify with her even a little. Even with God missing, he still looked up to him for guidance, never once doubting he was out there How else could he explain all the resurrections?

“Hey, uh, you know, even with my sisters, it’s gonna be lonely. I don’t… Nevermind, it’s too much to ask…”

“Would you like me to accompany you?” She nodded, sniffing slightly. “I will, then.”

Cas felt obligated to do so. She was kind enough not to call the police after finding him in _there_ , and let him ride in the car for almost ten hours. Emily smiled at him, and carried on driving until they reached her house.

  
It was brightly lit and a few cars were parked in front of the suburban house. It was large, painted white and calming green, decorated with lawn gnomes and flowered bushes despite the winter’s chill.  
The funeral was the same day in the evening, and Cas stood by awkwardly, offering his sympathies to anyone who stopped by to chat. Emily hardly paid any attention to him, and Cas didn’t care. It felt wrong to be here, and when Emily finally spoke to him, he excused himself and left.

 

At least he was closer to Dean now. Kansas wasn’t close by any means, but at least Cas knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d be reunited with the brothers. They probably thought he was busy dealing with the new fallen angels. He was, in a way, dealing with them, but avoiding might be a better term.  
They were angry. All of them, and they had every right to be, but it was not his fault. None of it was. It was just another mistake.

 

He slept outside again. He could have stayed overnight at Emily’s, or even stolen someone’s car keys, but she’d been kind to him. He couldn’t do that, especially during her father’s funeral. He wasn’t cruel.

Another car ride later, this time with a man who probably would’ve hurt Cas if his vessel had been female. He thanked the driver hurriedly and practically ran away from the black van. It had been the only one for miles.

Cas hadn’t felt too bad about stealing the man’s wallet. When he was sure the van was far away, he took it out of his pocket and examined it. He was only interested in the money. Over two hundred dollars in small bills. Perfect. He was next to a motel anyways, so he booked a night.

 

The room stank, dust floated in the air and several unexplainable stains patterned the threadbare carpet and mouldy ceiling. A single bed sat in the middle of the room, and the theme was mountains. On the wall was an old hunting trophy; a deer that had lost parts of its antlers and now had chewing gum and cigarette burns covering the once soft fur.  
It was tacky to say the least, and he’d seen the boys sleep in better looking places, but it was the cheapest room available. He’d spent so long on Earth to understand the value of money, and he had to be careful.

  
He’d had a chance to dry his clothes the day before, but he needed a shower, and a change of clothes.

 

He walked into the bathroom with his clothes still on, not daring to walk barefoot around the room. The tiles were cracked and the pipes spluttered when he reached for the hot tap of the shower. Seconds passed before lukewarm water dripped out of the rusted head. It would have to do.

Cas stripped down, folding his clothes meticulously and placing them down onto the cupboard beside the sink. He sneezed loudly then, surprising himself. He thought the cold had gone away by now. Maybe it was all the dust.

He stepped under the weak spray, trying hard to ignore all the aches that surfaced under the heat. Thankfully, the water heated up a bit more, making it bearable.

It was his first time taking a proper shower like this, and he had to admit it was enjoyable. The constant rhythmic patter of droplets on the tiles and the warmth spreading down his back, where the heat touched his spine and lit up his nerves.

Everything felt so different than before. As an angel, it was easy to just take in all the small details, never looking at the bigger picture. Food was too… molecular. He couldn’t stop to enjoy the taste when all he could think about was all the small, insignificant things. But he couldn’t help smiling to himself when he heard and saw both Dean and Sam enjoying their meals.They had such different tastes, Dean with his unhealthy greasy burgers and Sam’s balanced diet. It was amusing to see them argue over that. The simple bickering between brothers.

 

He missed that.

 

He missed his own brothers, not just the fellow angels he addressed as siblings. It was more of an endearment. Humans did it too, yet he was sure Dean imagined they were all related. Not all of them were.They had families; parents and siblings, and uncles and aunts. The natural order was so similar. Whilst he called Gabriel his brother, he was more distantly related than his actual biological brother.

  
At some point, some angel must have said it and it just stuck. To unify the angels in one gigantic family was better, felt closer and more trustworthy.

Castiel liked that.

The water started to run cooler, only slightly, so the angel quickly scrubbed his tanned skin, and poured some cheap shampoo into his raven locks. The feeling of another’s fingers in his hair… he missed that too.  
Gabriel used to do it so often, even when he passed him in the lecture halls. He’s raise his hand and ruffle Cas’ hair lovingly.

Castiel had been just a fledgling when his parents had died. Everyone had mourned them, Cas most of all. They’d all been so piteous, watching him every day thinking he would break but he never did. He cried for weeks after it happened. Just a fight against some tough demons that had refused to go back to Hell.

  
It was one of the reasons he hated Lucifer so much. He’d created those monsters, and had taken his parents’ lives. Lucifer hadn’t been sent to the Cage yet, it was just whispers and rumors back then. No one believed God was going to cast out his own son, his beloved second-born. But he did, and Cas had been too young back then to truly understand what that meant. All he knew was that Lucifer was getting punished, and that he deserved it.

He didn’t think the same these days. When everyone around you thought the same, it was difficult to have an original thought, or to dare go against the popular opinion unless you wanted to end up like Lucifer.   
It was easier in the last few years, when the indoctrination started to break away and he was forced to get off his high-horse.  
He still hated Lucifer, for everything. For his parents, for wanting to destroy humanity, for wanting to use Sam to kill Dean, even just hurting Sam in the Cage. He hated him, there was no doubt. But he would have never cast him out for a mistake born out of anger. Heaven knows Cas made mistakes born out of desperation. 

Gabriel had been so heart-broken after his big brother had been cast out. He wasn’t ever the same again. He was broken inside, tried so hard to cover it up and hide behind a mask of smirks and laughter. Cas knew he wasn’t like that deep down. He had been…once.  
Hell, he didn’t even know where he’d gone for so many years, and whether he was still alive after Lucifer met with him.

Castiel missed his brother.

He missed his home.

He missed Dean and Sam.


End file.
